Waiting Room
by cuppacuppajoe
Summary: A series of drabbles set in 7.13. Spoiler alert is up!
1. Chapter 1

_Morphine_

He's here.

When she saw him, a huge wave of relief washed over her, dribbling from her scalp to slow (make rapid?) her beating heart; soaking all the way to her toes and soothing the frazzled nerve endings along the length of her arms and legs. (Or was the feeling more like a huge weight had lifted, making her feel all limp and weightless and intoxicated?)

Either way, her reaction to his arrival was a cliché. He was like a drug. A calming little potion, a kiss on a boo-boo.

"Logan! You're here! But how? I wasn't expecting you for hours yet, what with the Friday night traffic from the city and your work and I know you have a meeting which," she pauses, looking at her watch, "you are currently missing! Oh God, you shouldn't have! I—we—are fine here, and Grandma had spoken with the doctor and he said that Grandpa—"

She was swiftly interrupted by his mouth pressing gently on hers, his palm cupping her cheek. It felt like a drug.

Lifting his head a moment later, he silently took in her slightly furrowed forehead, a faint line appearing between her eyebrows. Her eyes were tired and watery.

"How are you?"

Fearing she would weep if she spoke, Rory buried her face against his neck instead, clutching at his coat lapels. She inhaled the remnants of his after-shave against his five-o-clock stubble. He rubbed slow circles on her back, and her stiffness turned pliant.

"Thank you for being here."


	2. Chapter 2

_Flying around in circles_

"I _can't_ believe you did that."

Her eyes were wide in genuine incredulity.

"What?" _Did she not think he would do that for her?_

"A helicopter. You borrowed a _helicopter_. I know, I know, such…perks are readily available to a Huntzberger, but still. The very idea sounds so crazy…"

"I seem to recall that _we've_ taken a helicopter to go on a weekend shopping spree in New York."

"Well that was different."

"How so?"

"That was nothing, just for kicks. You were bored or upset—I had forgotten which—you just wanted a diversion. The helicopter ride was just you being you, your over-the-top show-off you."

He rolled his eyes. "Okaaay, stop with the compliments already. But now…?"

"Whereas now…" Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Tell me again."

"Rory…"

"Just tell me again!"

"For the nth time," he sighed, "I borrowed a helicopter because I needed to get here as fast as I could…"

"Because…?"

"Because I wanted to be with you, to make sure you were alright," he continued more quietly, murmuring against her head on his chest. "Happy?"

"My hero!" she practically purred, looking up and laughing. She abruptly stopped herself, sitting up straighter on the gray plastic chairs on which they had been sprawled for the last hour.

"It all sounds very romantic is all. And very inappropriate to be crowing about at a time like this." Her hand was fidgeting with her paper coffee cup, tiny shreds of it floating to the floor.

Logan pulled her back against him, putting his arm around her. "And I suppose it's better and helpful to get another cup of coffee to tear up when empty, and not talk at all unless it's to say how worried we are about Richard." He kissed her head. "For whom everything humanly and medically possible is currently being done."

They sat in silence for several moments, watching people walk, trance-like, to and from the vending machine in the corner. They plugged in their coins, meditatively selecting the next sugar-coated morsel to satiate their anxieties with. Logan's head lolled against Rory's in drowsiness, only to jerk up at Rory's hushed exclamation breaking the monotony.

"I _really_ can't believe you did that!"

"What now?"

"A helicopter. You flew in, from New York, via _helicopter_."

"Rory…"


	3. Chapter 3

_His blonde hair and her blue eyes_

"Mom, stop it!

"What? What am I doing?"

"Ogling them. Like they're a couple of prized, pedigreed dogs you're looking to buy for the value of their mating prospects. 'Their offspring will fetch a very good price, madam, what with a genuine blue-blooded bitch and stud like that,'" Lorelai mimicked in a faux British accent.

"Really, Lorelai, do you have to be so crass as to compare your daughter and Logan to…dogs! I'm not even all that fond of dogs," Emily huffed. "Your head must have gone soft with that disgusting Jello you've been consuming all day."

"Okay, okay. Then I bet you're planning a massive garden wedding at the Vineyard with a soft-cream-and-pink-blush color motif with the most adorable spring-themed table settings courtesy of that ridiculously stiff-lipped event planner of yours who had sagely suggested that I turn my wedding reception into a scene from _A Midsummer Night's Dream._ Oh look, there she is, walking down the rose-bedecked green, Rory Gilmore soon-to-be-Huntzberger, looking positively radiant and uncannily like Audrey Hepburn in her tulle and lace and silk regalia. While waiting at the opposite end, the dashing groom, wearing a--" Lorelai, running out of breath, was thankfully interrupted by Emily.

"Ridiculous? _You_ were being ridiculous! _And_ stubborn. How someone already married could be so opposed to a wedding is beyond me."

"He was wearing a bow tie, if I'm not mistaken. Ridiculous. I could have been more easily bowled over by the Fab Five. But no, I'm not taking the bait, you are not turning this into a 'how are you and Christopher' moment, Mom."

"Actually Lorelai, I was thinking of a wedding at the Dragonfly," Emily murmured, switching gears as easily as could her daughter. "I think that would suit her so much better." Emily closed her eyes, feeling tired herself but refusing to succumb to sleep just yet.

Lorelai looked surreptitiously at the couple dozing across from them. Her head was slumped against his chest, his arm subconsciously keeping her from sliding all the way to the linoleum.

As she blew into her coffee, she tried to ignore the pang she felt at seeing her daughter so…_settled_ in sleep under Logan's arm.

"They _would_ have pretty children, I'll give you that," she whispered, and Emily snorted smugly beside her.


	4. Chapter 4

_I'd rather be in Fez_

"Have I told you about the first time Grandpa and I really got together?"

"Think so. You played golf together at his club, and you wore a funky little knitted golf cap."

"Huh. I told you about the cap?"

"Rory, you're wearing the cap."

"Well, I thought it might cheer him up when he sees me wearing it. When he wakes up…" Her voice trailed off, as the thought came, unbidden. _If he wakes up._

Logan took her hand and squeezed it, kissing her knuckles briefly before tugging at a strand of her hair. "You do look cute."

"I told him I wanted to go to Fez, and he seemed taken by that. I think that was the very first moment we…_connected_, you know? I'm sure it wasn't my golfing prowess." She smiled at the memory. "I think I surprised him. Maybe I wasn't what he was expecting. He surprised me too. I really had no idea what he would be like, except from what Mom told me…and I'd never had a man in my life to really talk to and look up to before him, if you know what I mean."

Logan looked at Rory's profile as she stared at Richard on the hospital bed, all manner of tubes running in and out of him. "You do have a lot in common with Richard. You both love to travel, you both like to read, you're both crazy about all things Yale…But more than that, I can see how much you matter to each other."

There were a pile of newspapers on the bedside table, ever ready to be picked up and read aloud to Richard by Rory.

"We do kind of get each other."

"Hey, remember when he gave me a little talk about your future plans when you lived at the pool house, and I thought he was interrogating me about my 'intentions' with you," he chuckled, making air quotes with his fingers. "Man, that scared the shit out of me…Yeow!" Logan exclaimed, rubbing his arm where Rory boxed him, as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"That matter is pretty moot now, Ace, okay? Actually the point I was making is that he really was worried about you at that time, and I saw that. He's always thought highly of you and wanted what's best for you. I'd never want to cross him when it comes to you."

"He might have killed Mitchum you know."

"Which would have endeared Richard more to me."

"Oh, stop."

Logan distractedly picked up and began leafing through that day's _Wall Street Journal,_ as Rory looked on pensively at Richard.

"I think, that when Grandpa is well enough, he and I will go to Fez together."


	5. Chapter 5

_Now is not the time to tell them about Tiffany's on Old Bond Street_

"I suppose now is not the right time."

"No, I don't think so."

She pressed her forehead against the glass. "I'm about ready to burst from holding out for so long, waiting until you and I could be with Mom, Grandma and Grandpa and Dad, and…now the whole family is here…and pretty much everyone else I care about. And damn, it's not the right time."

They found themselves a lonely floor (the 34th?) to huddle against some potted ferns, leaning against glass windows that looked out over picturesque winter Connecticut landscape. Now that he was awake, visitors streamed into and out of Richard's suite below—old colleagues and friends and DAR folk, Luke, Sookie and Jackson, Ms. Patty from Stars Hollow, even Lane and Paris.

They had to get away. In a while, Logan was leaving again for New York. He sighed and took her in an embrace, their foreheads, cold from the glass, touching.

"Are you still enjoying our little secret, though?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"It's hardly 'little'…Mom took one look at me after I got back home and I _knew_ she was wondering whether something was up."

She reddened involuntarily, feeling warm as Logan dipped a finger under her collar to reveal a diamond set on a platinum band, hanging from a slender chain around her neck.

"I've evaded her pointed stares as best as I could. Then I went back to Yale, and Grandpa…and now I think she thinks I just had a _really_ good holiday with you."

"Well you really had a good holiday with me."

He bent his head to her and nuzzled her nose, before capturing her mouth with his. Rory held his face to hers as she parted her lips under his to deepen the kiss.

"So what _did_ you tell her about your Christmas in London?" he asked, planting kisses along her jaw line.

"Oh…jam and crumpets and mulled wine…caroling at King's College…" she struggled to remain coherent as Logan attended to a special spot on her neck. "She was particularly captivated by the Queen's Christmas message…" Rory clung to Logan's coat for dear life, as her legs turned to rubber from the deliberate strokes of his tongue. "And she turned green when I said we skated at Somerset House…Um, Logan. Logan!" She tugged at his hair, forcing him to look up and around.

An elderly couple, snowy-haired and armed with metal walkers, was gazing with interest at the young couple making out in what appeared to be the Geriatric ward. They shook their heads but smiled benevolently, as they shuffled into the elevator.

Logan turned again to Rory, not the least bit perturbed by their apparent lack of privacy. "I'm a bit disappointed, Ace. You didn't tell her about what we did during the Winter Solstice? Surely that was the best longest night…" he grinned wickedly and bent to kiss her again.

"I skipped that part," Rory murmured between kisses. "but I distracted her enough with my British theatre rendition of 'Climb Every Mountain' and shopping exploits in Chelsea and Mayfair…"

"Except you didn't tell her about a _particular_ shopping expedition we had at Bond Street in Mayfair."

Rory unconsciously caressed the ring around her neck. "I will."

"_We_ will. She'll flip?"

"Most definitely. And Grandma…she'd be planning our wedding as soon as it's socially respectable given Grandpa's convalescence."

"Then I guess there is something to be said about secrets, huh? Some poet said that…that it's all the sweeter for it being kept between just us two."

"And now you're spouting poetry. I've always known there's something weird in hospital food." She held his head still between her hands and kissed him hard, with urgency. "I miss you, Logan."

"It hurts that it seems to have escaped your notice, but I'm still here Rory."

"You know what I mean. I can hardly wait until I graduate. Until we can be together for more and longer than just days at a time. Until…"

"I know." Logan gathered her in a close embrace. "That time will come."

A moment more, and they knew it was time to return to the fray, to Richard, to New York, to Yale. Rory pulled Logan to the elevator and punched the down arrow.

"Meanwhile," she sighed, putting her necklace back under her collar, "Now is not the time to tell them about Tiffany's on Old Bond Street."


End file.
